


Photogenic Qualities

by thedaughterofkings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M, Meet-Cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21778390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedaughterofkings/pseuds/thedaughterofkings
Summary: Faking an romance in Paris at Christmas shouldn't be too hard, should it? Some couple-y pictures with a gorgeous stranger in front of the Eiffel Tower and the Instagram posts write themselves.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 39
Kudos: 271
Collections: 12 Days of Sterek





	Photogenic Qualities

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 12 Days of Sterek 2019 and based on [this post](https://thedaughterofkings.tumblr.com/post/188808494566) \- just with additional Christmas lights and Christmas fluff; 'tis the season after all!
> 
> Beta-read by the wonderful Larissa, who answered my cries for help at the very last minute (because what is time management) and worked her magic on this fic!

_From Lydia: Pics or it didn’t happen, Stilinski!_

Stiles rolls his eyes and leaves her on read for that. Spending his Christmas touring Europe was supposed to be his escape from all the lovey-dovey paired up couples in his life. It had sounded perfect - snow, lights, _Plätzchen_ , Christmas markets, carols and holiday cheer - without being reminded of his perpetual singleness every freaking second. 

But not even putting miles between them had kept him safe from the very annoying happiness of every single one of his friends. Instagram should have never been invented. Of course, Stiles could have put on his big boy pants and ignored it - or, heaven forbid, simply not opened the app. But well, he needs a place to post all his pretty pictures of steaming _Glühwein_ and snow covered, lit up Christmas trees and the like, doesn't he? And if he somehow made it seem as though he wasn't alone drinking said _Glühwein_ and admiring the trees, well, Stiles never claimed to be rational. 

By now Lydia has called him on his bluff, though. 

The rational thing would be to either come clean, or at least play it of as a short fling in Germany, that is all in the past now that he’s in France. But again, Stiles isn't rational. He blames all of the _Glühwein_. One cup would have probably been too much and ordering two so that he could keep up his charade of a holiday romance was definitely a mistake. 

And because Stiles is Stiles, he's going to double down. 

Lydia wants pics? Stiles will show her pics!

He's going to close his eyes, count to ten and ask the next person he sees to take a romantic picture for Instagram with him. What could possibly go wrong?

Closing his eyes and counting to ten works well enough, and even the decision who he's going to approach is easy enough. There's only one single person in his vicinity, a tall man with a broad back and even broader shoulders. For a second Stiles hesitates, because if that guy punches him, it's going to hurt, but then he metaphorically kicks his own butt and tells himself to stop being a chicken. He'll get an Instagram post bound to get attention either way and who cares about the rest, right?

It's only as Stiles taps the guy on the shoulder and watches him turn around, revealing artfully groomed stubble, heavy brows and the most beautiful eyes Stiles has ever seen that he realises the fatal flaw in his plan. 

“ _Oui?_ ”

He's going to have to speak French. And his high school French really does not stretch to propositioning random men for fake couple pictures for Instagram. What has his life even become. 

Never one to quit, though, Stiles steels himself and scrapes together all the French he can:

“ _Est-ce que vous_ -” is about as far as that gets him before he stumbles to a halt. How do you say “I need a fake picture with my fake boyfriend to prove I’ve not been lying to all of my friends this whole time.” in French?

Thankfully the gorgeous Frenchman apparently can read his mind because he rattles off a long question where the only word Stiles understands is “ _photo_ ” but well, that’s all he needs, isn’t it?

“Photo, yes, please! _Oui! Merci!_ ” he exclaims and gorgeous Frenchman laughs.

“No problem.”

“You speak English!” 

“I should hope so, I’m from California,” gorgeous not-a-Frenchman-after-all says and shows the most adorable bunny teeth when he grins at Stiles. 

“No way, dude, me too! Oh that makes this even better, Lydia is going to _eat her words_.”

“ _Bon appetit_?” gorgeous American offers and Stiles falls a little bit in love.

“This is going to sound really weird, but would you take a picture with me? Something really romantic and kitschy and that’s going to make all of my loved up friends absolutely green with jealousy?” he asks and desperately hopes he’s not going to get slapped or punched.

But instead gorgeous American’s mouth twitches and his eyes crinkle in amusement.

“You want me to help you lie to all of your friends?”

“Yes?” Stiles offers hesitantly.

“Give me your phone,” gorgeous guy demands and then immediately hands it over to some random young woman who he’d stopped, talking to her in such rapid French that Stiles has no hope of getting a single word. Then he comes back towards Stiles and - hesitates.

“What did you have in mind for your super romantic and kitschy picture?” he asks and Stiles shrugs, feeling his cheeks growing hot.

“I honestly didn’t even think that far,” he admits. “I thought I’d get punched or slapped before ever getting to this point.”

“How about this?”

Gorgeous guy steps closer and cups Stiles’ face with one hand, the other slipping around his waist. Then he slowly draws Stiles in until they are nose to nose, foreheads resting against each other.

“Is this okay?” gorgeous guy asks, whispers almost, and Stiles croaks out that hopefully resembles a yes. 

In the background their photographer coos at them. 

Up this close, gorgeous’ guy’s eyes are really, well, gorgeous. They are surprisingly light in colour, some mix of blue and green and grey that’s hard to describe, but easy to drown in. He also smells really nice, Stiles is pleased to discover, not like wet clothes and sweat, as many people tend to do during winter. Stiles’ nose isn’t good enough to pick out particular scent notes, but there’s definitely a hint of leather and something earthy or woodsy. 

Stiles swallows and watches gorgeous guy's eyes flutter shut, then open again slowly, gazing into Stiles’ eyes as though he’s trying to read his mind. It isn't really helping with Stiles' composure. 

He licks his lips and watches gorgeous guy’s eyes track the movement. Just as he's about to consider whether leaning in for a kiss would be too forward (he can't be reading those signs wrong, can he? They are neon bright!), a flood of rapid French from their photographer breaks the tension and they both jump away from each other. 

Gorgeous guy retrieves Stiles' phone from the girl, thanking her presumably, and Stiles assumes that's it, chance wasted, no Christmas romance for Stiles. Not as if he'd expected one even half an hour ago, but he's surprised how disappointed he feels now. And he doesn't even know his potential boo’s name!

But gorgeous guy surprises him yet again, handing his own phone to the girl, and asking Stiles: "It's going on Instagram, I presume? If we take another one with my phone we can both post one and tag each other; that'll make it look even better."

You're not supposed to look a gift horse in the mouth, so of course Stiles does just that by asking:

“Why are you so cool about this? I honestly thought I was going to get slapped and instead you're playing along! You're even coming up with new ideas! I'm not going to be your tool to make your ex-girlfriend jealous!”

He neatly ignores the hypocrisy in that accusation - using gorgeous guy to get his friends off his back is something completely different. And anyways, that was ten minutes ago; the situation is completely different now. Stiles is emotionally invested, okay?

Which yes, might be a bit quick, but gorgeous guy really is very gorgeous, alright, and ready to play along with Stiles' demands, and he speaks French - and he looks rather adorable when he blushes. 

“My sisters have been on my case,” he admits, though obviously only reluctantly. “They keep saying I'm a right Scrooge and that I'm going to die sad and alone if I'm not careful.”

“That's so mean,” Stiles exclaims. If that's what having siblings is like, he's glad he's an only child. 

“They mean well.” Gorgeous guy even tries to defend them!

“Doesn't mean they get to bully you,” Stiles insists and claps his hands. “Okay, the last one was great, but this one will really have to blow their minds. Any ideas?”

“I've got one,” gorgeous guy says quietly and then proceeds to blow Stiles' mind when he tilts his chin up for a chaste kiss. 

There's an excited squeal somewhere in their vicinity, but Stiles can't concentrate on that right now. All his focus is on how gorgeous guy’s lips feel against his, soft and gentle, particularly in comparison to the sandpaper scratch of gorgeous guy’s stubble. The kiss is chaste, just closed lips moving slowly against each other, no hint of tongue, but Stiles still finds himself glad for the steadying arm around his waist. His own arms have wrapped themselves around gorgeous guy’s shoulders, almost without his input. 

The kiss slowly comes to an end, until they are just breathing heavily into the space between them in each other, still so close their noses are almost touching. 

“Well, that sure blowed my mind,” Stiles says, glad his voice doesn’t come out as shaky as he feels. 

Gorgeous guy chuckles and this close Stiles can see how his eyes wrinkle in amusement. 

“I’m glad you approve,” he returns and Stiles nods vigorously, almost headbutting gorgeous guy in the face accidentally. 

“I approve, I approve so hard, dude! In fact, I’d love to keep approving!”

That earns him another soft laugh and a gentle squeeze from the hand still curved around his side. 

“Only if you tell me your name first.”

Oh right, they still haven’t even exchanged names yet. 

“I’m Stiles,” Stiles says, suddenly inexplicably nervous. It’s not as if his name is going to be a dealbreaker. Right? “Stiles Stilinski.”

“Nice to meet you, Stiles Stilinski,” gorgeous guy replies, showing off his bunny teeth again in a grin. “I’m Derek, Derek Hale.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Derek Hale,” Stiles returns, and they probably would have stayed there, hugging and grinning stupidly at each other, if a slow clap hadn’t interrupted them.

“You guys are better than a movie,” a voice with a strong French accent says, and when Stiles looks away from gorgeous guy, no, Derek, he says that their photographer is grinning madly at them, still snapping away on Derek’s phone.

“You speak English?” Stiles asks, feeling almost betrayed. How come everyone suddenly speaks English?!

“Of course, we are not heathens,” French girl replies, nose raised haughtily. “The real question is why you don’t speak French!”

“Hey, Derek does!” Stiles retorts and glares at her. “And I - try.”

“I can teach you,” Derek says, breath blowing hotly over Stiles’ ear and neck. He can’t suppress a shudder and feels his cheeks heat up. French girl giggles.

“Shut up,” Stiles mutters, but that only makes her laugh harder. Still giggling intermittently, she finally hands over Derek’s phone again and ducks in to breathe air kisses onto both of their cheeks.

“I wish both of you the very best,” she says, sounding surprisingly earnest. With that she turns around and starts walking away, only to throw over her shoulder:

“Don’t forget to tag me on Instagram!”

She disappears before Stiles can ask how they are supposed to do that when they don’t even know her name, never mind her handle, but when they later check their phones, they discover that she’s followed her own account from both of their phones. 

She also took some really great, romantic pictures of them, so Stiles guesses he can’t complain. He stares down at the picture of him and Derek leaning their foreheads together and is amazed at how right they look together. The lit up Eiffel Tower helps with the atmosphere of course, but still, it doesn’t look like they are faking it at all. His chest aches strangely at the thought.

“Would you like some coffee?” Derek asks suddenly. He has been as engrossed in his phone as Stiles was, and Stiles has to bite his tongue not to demand to see the photos she took of them kissing immediately. He isn’t even entirely sure he wants to see them, not when they put that expression on Derek’s face. It’s not a bad expression, not at all, but the look in his eyes makes Stiles’ chest ache even more.

“Like a date?” he asks, because they are well beyond talking around the bush. 

“To plot our Instagram romance,” Derek clarifies and Stiles’ heart clenches. “And like a date, too,” he adds quickly, the corner of his mouth turned up mischievously, and Stiles punches him in the arm.

“Dick,” he says with feeling and Derek laughs. 

“You love it,” he teases, and Stiles heaves a put-upon sigh. 

“I only like you for your photogenic qualities,” he retorts and then daringly grabs Derek’s hand, chest tight until Derek squeezes his hand in return. “Now, you promised me coffee! I also want a croissant. That’s what you do when in France, isn’t it? Drink coffee and eat croissants?”

Derek’s reply is so quiet that Stiles almost doesn’t hear it:

“That, and fall in love.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you thought, so please leave a comment below or come talk to me on [tumblr](https://thedaughterofkings.tumblr.com/)!


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